《Sins of the Fathers (A Dungeon Story)》-6-
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Viktor spun around with great speed, putting his side toward the group of armed people, making himself a smaller target. Just in time too as another arrow flew past the side of his face, grazing him and taking out a chunk of flesh.
"Halt demon!" Exclaimed a man in shining plate armour as he raised his sword point toward Viktor. The man wore a steel breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets and greaves over a rough leather jerkin. He looked menacing, more so with his two-handed sword currently levelled at Viktors face.
Luckily for him, however, the rest of the man's party looked less battle ready, with only the armoured man and the man who had shot the arrow looking at all enthused to be here. In fact for the other three, they looked a few seconds away from running.
"Of course the bastards would try to summon something, wherever they go death follows. First the prince now this unholy creature." Muttered the bow-wielding man quietly as he ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair, Viktor wasn't sure if it was fear or anticipation. He didn't want to find out.
He quickly burnt the mana fueled adrenaline into his legs, managing to pounce directly on the archer before he could so much as breathe, slashing deep into both his shoulders with inch long claws.
The man hissed in pain as he began to fall backwards, it was at the same time that Viktor began to see red, the thrill of the kill was beginning to overwhelm him with and the help of his animal instincts his restraint was near all gone. As such he didn't see the two-handed sword strike until it was too late, busy tearing into the downed man's chest and torso. It was because of this that he had not managed to dodge instead merely leaning out of the way, earning himself a glancing blow and bruised and slightly bleeding shoulder as punishment for his haste.
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Viktor backed off as several members of the back line began to tend to the injured archer, he didn't care, however. His attention was firmly on the warrior.
They stalked each other, walking in slow, languid circles each daring for the other to make the first attack. Viktor's inhuman eyes were locked with the man's in an attempt to unnerve him, internally however he was racking his brain for a plan.
That bastard is too strong, and fast! He cursed, sure he was both stronger an faster but that was only with the help of mana and even then it only lasted for small bursts. No. He wouldn't be able to rely on brute strength for this. It would require cunning. He desperately searched the clearing until, there! He found what he needed, he had a plan. Viktor then began to contract his route, moving closer to the warrior with each orbit constricting on the man like a noose around the neck of the condemned.
Viktor revelled as he saw the man gulp in nervousness, without his ranged support to back him up it seemed that he wasn't very confident. He kept looking back toward the injured man as if by some miracle he would heal. As if Viktor thought. He had spoken too soon.
As it was then that one of the robed member's of the warrior's party produced a small vial of red liquid and forced it down the twitching archer's throat. Viktor then watched with bulging eyes as the man's wounds stitched themselves together. Now healed the man continued to convulse, in shock from the pain. It would not last forever though. Viktor needed to end this quickly.
He launched himself toward the warrior, not burning any mana. At least not yet. He got close to him and watched with glee as the man took the bait, swinging with a devastatingly powerful horizontal strike. Viktor backpedalled as fast as he could purposefully stumbling over his feet, showing false weakness. He then began retreating toward the woods, Viktor looked back and saw the warrior following hot on his heels. He had him.
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When Viktor reached the tree line he wrapped both of his large hands around the end of a strong iron-wood branch. Then, wrenching with all his mana induced might he tore it clean off, spinning around wildly and smashing the branch into the un-armoured head of the warrior.
Ironwood was a type of tree exclusive to the forests of Hogenbach, so named as it was reputed to be as strong as iron and impervious to flame. As such when Viktor smashed a heavy block of the substance into the knight's face he went down, dazed and fighting to stay conscious, It was a fight he would lose.
Viktor descended on him like a wild animal, releasing all of his pent-up rage at being lied to and being denied his last kill on the man's face. By the time the archer had recovered and warded him of with an arrow to the thigh the warrior was unrecognisable. His face naught more than a puddle of brain and bone matter.
Viktor closed the distance to the archer in much the same way he had before, landing a compact hook to the man's jaw before being driven off by several wild dagger strikes. It was at this point that the other member's of the warrior's party began to retreat. They saw the archer being worn down slowly but surely, coming off worse with each engagement with the monster. They knew it was a losing fight. They ran.
Viktor smiled wickedly at the archer before screaming bloody murder and grabbing the man's freshly drawn dagger in his leathery hand, no regard for his physical form, he could always craft another. He then proceeded to sweep the man's legs and pin his limbs to the ground. He wanted to question him.
The man writhed for several moments before realising the futility of the act and simply lay still, seemingly accepting of his fate. Needless to say, he was quite surprised when he was not killed straight away by the monster. It was just sitting there, pinning him and staring into his eyes, then it spoke.
"What was your mission?" Viktor asked in the trademark raspy voice of Homunculus, hoping that the man could understand him in his shocked state.
"It talks?!" The man yelled in surprise, Viktor backhanded him, he needed answers, not yelling.
"What was your quest?" He repeated the question in the same level tone, the only evidence of any abuse the red mark on the side of the man's face.
"Um, um sorry. We were sent to kill the bandits under Cursac Grieswald and destroy any unholy creations they may have dredged up from the abyss." The man spat the last few words at Viktor, seeming to have chosen defiance over his life. Nevermind, Viktor wouldn't have let him live anyway. He then threw a series of vicious straight punches to the man's face until he to looked like no more a human stain.
Viktor stood, his previous anger having been drained by a sense of all-consuming dread. Destroy all unholy creations. He wasn't sure whether or not he was holy but if today's actions were any hint he was inclined to believe otherwise. There was also the fact that his core, the most vulnerable part of him was currently undefended and in the town. The town that was on fire. With only frogs for protection. Viktor cursed loudly before setting his homunculus to limp back to the base, returning his consciousness to his core on its own. He needed time to plan. And it seemed time was quickly becoming scarce in Heimlenstadt.
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